The Warden, the Nightengale, and the Calling
by ThatSoRegan
Summary: With Corypheus defeated the remaining Grey Wardens have seemed to stop hearing his imitation of the Calling. However for Letholin Mahariel -The Hero of Ferelden - his Calling is all but fake. After taking a small break from searching for a cure Letholin now realizes that he must continue his search in order to not just save the Wardens, but himself. (M-Mahariel)
1. Chapter 1: The Signs

Hello everyone! Thank you for clicking on my first fan fiction. Please give me feedback on what you think and give me any advice because I'm sure that I need it. Anyways, enjoy!

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><p>Times have been tough for Letholin Mahariel. The title of Warden Commander of Ferelden came with just as many (if not more) complications after the Blight, than during it. Before he became Commander it was simple, He only had to worry about raising an army in order to fight another one. Sure they had an Archedemon, but having to worry about crowd control due a Tavinter Magistair who was inducing something similar to the calling? That was quite a difficult and stressful task. With luck Corypheus' hold on the Wardens was only temporary and the remaining Wardens would be able to rebuild the Order as fast as they possibly could.<p>

However with the destruction of Corypheus one nightmare ended, but a second one took it's place for Letholin.

For months Letholin simply vanished, nobody, not even Leliana knew of his whereabouts. He was simply gone. During his disappearance he was spending most of his time searching for a cure to the Calling. He knew that it would come in handy if Corypheus' imitation Calling still affected the Wardens after his destruction. But after every lead went dry and the sudden contact from the Inquisition he began to feel the need to come out of hiding. So suddenly he decided to see if it was in fact the right decision to show his face by returning to Denerim and assisting King Alistair if needed. He was on his second week of being a personal adviser for his old friend when it happened. More specifically he was asleep when it happened.

_"They're coming...!"_

Letholin woke up with a start and short of breath. Even in the dark the elf could easily see that he was the only one within the small room. Even though he was offered a rather large room in Alistair's palace he chose to take the smallest room out of instinct. So it wasn't like there was much room for someone to hide and whisper strange things to him while he was asleep.

With a small sigh he began to lay back down in his bed in an attempt to fall back asleep. However after a few seconds later he heard it again.

_"Just let me get a little closer!"_

This time Letholin pulled out a dagger from underneath his pillow. The first time Letholin was able to play it off that it was just a dream that woke him up, but this one sounded more real, and more...Dalish. This time he could also just barely recognize the voice. "Tamlen?" He asked out loud.

Instead of an answer he heard something else.

_"You're not safe here...!"_

This caused Letholin to literally jump out of his bed. Due to it being in the middle of winter he was dressed in a thick wool shirt and pair of pants, but he still could feel the sting of the temperature within the room. However it wasn't the cold that he was worried about, it was about the sudden heat that he felt. "No..." He muttered to himself.

Suddenly he dropped his dagger onto the floor and pressed his hand against his forehead. He could instantly feel the fever that he was beginning to procure. "It can't be." He said before running going over to his desk.

Quickly he grabbed a ribbon off the desk and pulled his jet black hair into a pony tail. Next to the ribbon he grabbed a lantern and a small match book with the other. Expertly he lit a match and set fire to the small piece of cloth within the lantern. Instantly he threw the match book onto the desk and made his way to the front door.

As Letholin pulled it the door open he cringed at the loud noise it made. He knew Alistair's room was a couple doors down, and while time was of the essence he didn't want to wake the king up. Once it was open enough he squeezed through the door and ran towards down the hallway

Three lefts and two rights later Letholin was at the entrance of the palace's library. Pushing the door forward he made no hesitation of carefully opening it, he knew that he was safe enough to not wake his friend. The collection of books was impressive indeed. Even though Alistair himself didn't spend much time in the room, Letholin tended to hide himself there throughout most of the day. It was there that he could work in peace, and read from time to time. With so much time spent in that room he learned the layout like the back of his hand (mostly because he rearranged most of the books himself.) Because of this fact he knew exactly where the section on the Grey Wardens was: right next to his desk.

His little corner in the Library was a desk, a couple spare chairs, and a coffee table that were all surrounded by three tall book shelves that acted as makeshift walls. After placing the lantern on his desk Letholin made his way over to the self to his right. Quickly he began to scan through the titles that were printed onto the spines of the books.

"Initiation of the Grey Wardens, secrets on how to fight Darkspawn, the first Warden, the Calling." With a small sigh his hand rested on the top of the book. He dreaded the idea that he would find his answer in that book, part of him questioned if he should even look.

_"Open it."_

Once again he heard the whispers from behind him. For a second he told himself to not open the book, but for some odd reason he felt compelled to do what it said. However without really thinking about it he brought his arm to his side, but not before pulling the book off of it's shelf where it fell to the floor. For a moment he just stared at the book, it was open and turned to a page with large black letters saying "Symptoms of a Warden who hears the Calling." He questioned the luck of it turning onto that page, but he didn't think too much about it before he picked it up and began to read it.

Out loud he began to read the words printed on the page. "Signs that a Warden has hit the early stages of the Calling is when: 1) they begin to hear whispers from far away, 2) they begin to develops a fever 3)..." He stopped after the second sign; he didn't need to read any more. With a deep breath he placed the book onto the desk behind him. "All my time spent looking for a cure must have caught up with me." He muttered before leaning against the bookshelf.

For a while he stared at the book that was on his desk. He began to regret looking at that book, but he felt like that he needed to, even if he now began to realize something.

'I'm dying.'


	2. Chapter 2: The Departure

_"Wake up...!"_

For the second time within the span of a few hours Letholin was woken up by the very whispers that signifies his death. With a small groan he lifted his head off of the desk in the library. For a moment he looked around the room in confusion. 'Did I really pass out on my desk again?' He asked himself before he began to rub his eyes in an attempt to wake up.

Afterwards he began to try and remember what happened last night. However for a few moments he drew a blank, it wasn't until he felt a sudden headache that he cared to even notice the half empty bottle of wine sitting on his desk. "Oh..." He said out loud before getting out of his chair slowly. He suddenly began to remember that he felt the need to have a drink. He was hoping that he could drink his problem away, which was something that reminded him of an old friend of his.

For a few minutes Letholin just stood at his desk staring at the book that was open, he noticed that it was on a page that gave possible leads on how to cure the Calling. He wanted to tell himself that he could possibly find it with one of those leads, but he already knew the answer: they weren't. He distinctly remembered following every single one of them and coming up with next to nothing in the end.

_"You know how to end this."_

The whisper was faint, fainter than those from before. For a moment Letholin glanced down to the bottle in his hand before shrugging and taking another sip. Sure it was still in the morning but if it helped suppress the whispers a bit then it to be worth the trouble.

Overall Letholin began to realize that the Calling was a rude awakening for him. For the first time in years he truly felt mortal, and he hated that, he felt like he was being cheated, he felt like he deserved more time. "But I don't have time..." He muttered to himself before sitting back down in his chair. He began to understand what the Wardens would say about the calling: he truly did feel powerless. He wasn't going to be able to find a cure and he knew it. However he began to get tired of thinking about how little time he had left, instead his mind began to wander to those that he would leave behind and how his death would impact them.

Oghren was holding down the fort as Vigil's keep, the old dwarf was still a drunk, but he also was a respectable warrior (and sometimes) and leader. Sure he was a good substitute for himself when he was gone, but was he a good enough leader? Zevran often visited between jobs, that elf was one of the few that kept Letholin humble, for if he became just as cocky as his friend than there would be a problem. What would happen to Zevran when he was gone, would the Crows finally catch up to him? After all it was Letholin who pulled him out of the fire multiple times, would he be able to do the same thing on his own? He also promised Alistair that he would remain at his side whenever he could and help him, so much for that. Then his thoughts transferred over to Leliana. He simply sighed. He remembered the last time that the two spoke he promised that they would reunite once again and start a family, but alas he wasn't going to be able to fulfill that promise. Almost on queue he heard her voice out from the corner.

_"When the Warden and I are together, anything is possible."_

Quickly he turned around to look where the voice came from, but he realized that it was just the whispers again and sighed before returning to his original position.

For a few minutes Letholin just spaced out, he didn't want to think about all the people that he would leave behind. But part of him wouldn't allow that, his love was still on his mind. Multiple times that quote rang through his head, where did he hear that? What did it mean? Suddenly his eyes widened, "Leliana!" He exclaimed as if he suddenly realized something.

Last time he was on his own searching for a cure to the Calling, but what if he had help this time? What if Leliana was at his side helping him try to save him? She had connections, no doubt she could find some other lead that he couldn't even fathom to pursue. He needed to see her, he needed her help. At least if she couldn't help save him he would be able to be at her side until the end, at least that would be enough for him.

Quickly Letholin began to pull out some parchment along with his ink and quill. If he was truly not going to live then he needed to end it on his own terms, he needed to say goodbye.

For the next few hours Letholin wrote a handful of letters. Most of which was to the friends he made during the events of the Blight. However there was one letter that was addressed to one of his kin from his old clan: Merrill. She was the only other remaining Dalish from clan Sabrae, and he hated her because of it. He remembered hearing about the slaughter of his clan and how she was apart of it. He remembered hearing that it was all because of the Eluvian and her quest to restore it. It was her actions that caused the death of those he called family, it was her fault that he lost his last connection to his parents.

Needless to say that letter was filled with spite, but he had to write it, who else would he write to? She was the last of the clan besides him, as much as it beat him up on the inside he needed to at least pass the message along to the other clans and let them know that the Calling very well could take his life.

After the letters were all written Letholin had a pretty decently sized stack placed on his desk. He sighed at the thought of what will have to be done if he does not make it, but he didn't like the idea of not saying goodbye. 'It has to be done.' He told himself. 'Just in case I cannot speak to all of them personally before it's too late.'

For some reason he felt glad, and he wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because he now felt like he had properly said goodbye if things take a turn for the worse, or maybe it was because he was going to finally be able to see Leliana after so many months, perhaps it was both.

After he felt satisfied with his letters Letholin placed them in a small lock box that was underneath his desk, he generally put important and personal things in that box. Once he locked it he made sure to put the key in his pocket, he would need it for later.

When he got out of his chair Letholin looked around the small makeshift room he had. He was going to miss it, even if it was rather small he felt like it was home, which was rare now a days. After a few moments he began to make his way back to his room. He had to prepare for his journey.

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><p>A little while later Letholin was cleaned up, had his Grey Warden uniform on, had his longsword strapped to his back, and had a small pack slung over his shoulder.<p>

It was still early in the morning but it looked like he was already ready for the day. After a few minutes of walking Letholin was in the door way leading to the dining hall.

The dining hall was a rather plain but large room. Alistair wasn't all that for luxury, but he understood that he was a king so he went along with whatever Arl Eamon advised him to do when Alistair first became king. Even though it was advised that a king should only eat breakfast with his wife Alistair instead chose to eat with the guards and the servants who worked for him at the palace. This was partially due to the fact that he was still not married and he didn't want to eat alone every morning, but it was also because he enjoyed the company of those that worked for him, and he wanted to make sure that they were aware of that.

At the head of the table sat Alistair dressed in his practically iconic red and white uniform. Letholin chuckled to himself, Alistair loved that thing. Also sitting at the table was most of the palace's staff, they all seemed to be having a rather hilarious conversation about their adventures during the Blight.

"And when Morrigan asked him how much longer Letholin replied: Can I get you a ladder, so you can get off my back?"

Most of the room exploded into laughter as Letholin walked into the room. Even he couldn't help but grin at that memory, he remembered it being such a tense moment. Alistair and him were in the middle of closing a rather large door in the deep roads so they stop a group of Darkspawn from advancing any further. Morrigan surely knew how to push everyone's buttons, for the most part he was rather patient with her, but in the heat of the moment he was sort of fed up with her constant pestering.

The arrival of Letholin quieted down most of the laughter however, even Alistair was eyeing him suspiciously, he didn't like the sight of his friend wearing his old uniform again.

Letholin knew the look on Alistair's face and put his hands up. "I only want to talk." He said calmly before glancing over to the others sitting at the table. "Preferably in private."

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><p>Letholin and Alistair decided that it would be best to relocate to the palace's garden. Rarely anyone was there in the morning, which meant that they could truly be alone there.<p>

Along the way to the garden the two stayed completely silent. However Alistair's glare said more than enough: he knew what was going on.

Once the two were at the garden Alistair stat down on a bench that overlooked a small pond. Letholin set down his pack next to the bench and placed his arms behind his back in their usual position. He generally stood in a rather business like fashion when he was around the king, he had to keep up appearances and whatnot.

"You know the last time we were here together was the day before you disappeared." Alistair noted before picking up a small handful of pebbles from underneath him.

Letholin cringed at the memory, he remembered saying that he would be out for the night because Leliana went missing and he needed to look for her. But he lied, she didn't go missing, he just needed an excuse to leave. He hated lying to Alistair that night, he hated lying in general.

"Your majesty if I could speak fre-."

Alistiar held up his hand to cut Letholin off, but he didnt speak. Instead he threw a pebble at the pond and it skipped a couple times before it sank. "You also called me majesty that night, the first since you joked about the title when we first arrived at Redcliffe."

Alistair turned slightly to look gravely over to Letholin, he was obviously not happy with how things were turning out with their talk, and Letholin knew that.

"Please, don't address me like a king, talk to me like a friend, you know I hate that." He said right before his face contorted into a rather (surprisingly) friendly and warm one. It was almost like a switch was flipped with the King of Ferelden.

In reaction Letholin lowered his arms a bit into a more informal stance. At least he knew that Alistair wasn't completely mad at him, yet.

"I'm leaving."

Alistair nodded his head before tossing another pebble towards the pond. "I had a feeling that you would say that." He said with a hint of sadness in his voice.

For a minute or two Alistair and Letholin were still, both waiting for the other to say something. It wasn't until Alistair spoke up and Letholin even thought of muttering a word.

"Can I my friend at least tell me why he is going to suddenly leave even though he has only been back for two weeks?" Alistair's voice was strained, it was like he was holding something back.

Letholin picked this up, but he knew that he had to say it. "No, I cannot." He said before pulling out a key from his pack. "However...I can give you this."

Leaning forward a bit Letholin placed the key on the bench beside Alistair. He glanced at it for a moment but sighed instead of picking it up.

"What does it unlock?" He asked.

"There's a small chest underneath my desk in the library. If I have not contacted you in some way within two months I want you to open it. Inside will explain everything, it will also...ask you to do something."

Alistair picked up the key and played with it in his hands. It was a rather old key, and it almost felt like that it was made out of wood. Suddenly he stood up an faced Letholin before holding out his hand. "I suppose this is goodbye then? I mean, you are going to leave right away, right? At least that's what I think what you're going to due since you have...y'know."

Alistair's reaction to his news was a rather interesting one, he expected the man to act completely different about it. Even though he had no idea what he was leaving he almost seemed to understand in some weird way.

Letholin smiled briefly before shaking his friend's hand.

_'You'll never see him again!'_

'Shut up.'

Letholin eventually broke off the handshake and picked up his pack, he needed to get going right away if he was going to be able to get to his first stop by nightfall. "Hey, remember that time Barkspawn ran off with your shield thinking that it was some stick?" Letholin asked.

Suddenly the two bursted out laughing as the remembered how long the two had to chase that dog around camp. Alistair laughed so hard that he had to wipe a tear from his eye. "Yeah, why do you ask?"

Letholin winked at him for a bit before suddenly turned around. "Think about it." He said before he began to walk away.

However he only took a few steps before Alistair's voice stopped him. "Can I at least know where you're going?"

Letholin paused for a moment, he had no idea if he could truly answer that question. Sure he had an idea on where his destination was, but would he make it?

"You'll find out soon enough."

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><p><strong>Small Cameo of Alistair, hopefully I didn't make him too mopey. :)<strong>


	3. Chapter 3: The Tavern

It took him a couple days but he finally got to where he needed: New Lothering. the sun has just set when he got to the outskirts of the town.

Standing on the railing of the bridge that marked the end of the Imperial Highway Letholin began to reminisce about the short time that he spent in the small town. Letholin looked over to his left where he remembered there being a group of bandits looking to take his money.

_"A simple ten silvers and you're free to move on."_

He chuckled to himself at how long ago that was, he seemed to young then-he was young back then.

"Things have changed..." He muttered before stepping off of the railing of the stone bridge, he didn't want to space out for too long and accidentally fall off.

As he neared the town he began to notice how much it truly changed. The blight almost seemed to...help the situation for the town in some twisted way. The land was still moderately scarred, but the town looked completely healed. It was a rather poor looking village the last time he was there, now it seemed to actually be a rather flourishing town in the makings to become a small city.

As he entered through the front gates Letholin was suddenly stopped by a couple guards standing watch.

"Halt!" The one on the left said before raising his spear towards Letholin's direction.

"State your name please." The guard on the right demanded.

Letholin was shocked, he did not expect to be demanded some sort of identification by guard of Lothering, even if they were growing rapidly. However after a couple seconds of awkward silence he realized that he had to say something-the guards were looking a little jumpy. Leaning forward a bit he spoke up. "Letholin Mahariel." He said rather loudly.

The two guards at the gate didn't seem all that calm about hearing his name, quickly the two glanced over to each other each other for a moment. "The Warden Commander...?" The guard on the left asked while he returned his gaze over to the elf.

Almost on queue rain began to poor seemingly out of nowhere, Letholin found it ironic that it had to begin to rain at that exact moment. A few moments instantly began to feel like hours as Letholin stood as still as a statue in front of the two guards. He was hessitant in telling the truth, he worried that if he did then the guards would act rashly. However he eventually nodded before holding his hands up, he was prepared for an arrest. Instead he heard a voice coming from behind the guards.

"Lower your weapons. Maker, I said lower your damn weapons!"

Suddenly a man of medium height came barreling down towards the three. By the markings on his armor Letholin quickly concluded that he was another guard, most likely of higher ranking.

This was confirmed when the two other guards in front of him did what they were told and instantly lowered their spears. Letholin did the same with his arms.

Once the man came closer Letholin identified him as a human in his forties. He seemed rather built for his age, but it made sense when he noticed the multiple scars that ran along his head. He had next to no hair on it except for a rather impressive looking mustache on his upper lip.

"Warden Commander Mahariel, if you would please come with me." The man commanded before motioning for him to follow. Letholin made no hesitation to make his way over to the man. However the two guards protested as he started to pass through the front gate.

"But sir..."

"He's a Warden!"

The words stung Letholin more than he cared to admit. He knew that Grey Wardens were not in good standing with the world at the current moment, but was it truly that bad?

"Yeah but he is also the Hero of Ferelden. You lot wouldn't have been old enough to even comprehend what that even means if it wasn't for this elf. Pay a little respect." The man retorted as Letholin walked past the guards.

Once Letholin was by the man's side his arm was grabbed and he practically felt dragged as the man briskly walked them away from the guards. For a few minutes the two were silent as they walked through Lothering. It wasn't until they were at the town's center that the man even spoke up. "As you can probably tell Wardens are. It exactly popular as of late. Even one of your stature is still looked poorly upon." The man explained.

Letholin couldn't help but chuckle and nod. "You don't say. I'm not so caught up on current events, could you possibly fill me in on why everyone holds such prejudice towards Wardens as of late?"

The man glanced over to Letholin for a moment. His face was filled with more surprise than he expected. But after a couple moments he nodded before looking back forward. Eventually the two stood right in the middle of the town. The man let go of his hold on Letholin and took a step back. "Meet me at the tavern on the other side of town in an hour. You'll recognize the name." He said plainly before he began to walk away.

But after a couple steps he stopped and turned back around. "Here." The man said before pulling something out of his pack. "Take this." The man threw Letholin a rather bulky cloak, he caught it with ease. "It's for both the rain and the armor." He explained. "You might want to cover that up while you in these parts." He recommended before turning. Back around once more and walking off.

Letholin just stood there dumbfounded for a moment. He certainly did not expect some guard to come to his rescue, let alone take him to safety and donate a cloak to stay out of sight. "Thanks." He finally said out loud. He knew that the man was long gone, but he still felt the need to at least say it.

After Letholin fully registered what just happened he quickly took off his pack in order to pull on his new cloak. It was a terrible shade of dark green and he was disappointed to see that it came down a little bit short, just down past the lower part of his knee's. This would make things a bit harder for others to realize just who he was and what he belonged to, but at least most of his armor was covered up. 'At least it will keep me dry and make it that much harder for others to recognize me.' He concluded before pulling his pack back on.

Once his he had his hood pulled up and over his face he felt satisfied enough to carry on in the rain. By that time it was absolutely pouring, because of this he was especially grateful for the cloak that the man lent him. He would have to repay him in some way at the tavern.

Letholin began to make his way over towards the other side of the town. While it was significantly different compared to what it was like the last time he was there, he still was able to get the general idea of what direction he needed to go. After all if he had the right idea on which tavern the man told him to go to, then he knew exactly where to.

As he cross the bridge to the other side of the town he suddenly stopped at the sight of two large statues. It was in the middle of a rather large looking town square, the second one that he had come across. For the longest time his mouth was open wide. This was because he recognized the statue on the left.

"That's a statue of me...!" He said out loud.

The statue depicted him with his Grey Warden armor on, a long sword in one hand, and the head of a Hurlock in the other. The statue was holding the head out proudly, the level of detail was surprisingly astounding. Slowly he walked up closer towards the statue of himself. "The likeness is uncanny." He noted to himself before touching the statue once he was close enough. Part of him was a bit creeped out at the idea that the town erected a statue in his name, but also another part of him felt honored. Only if he knew about it sooner. There was no doubt that he would have come to visit it publicly if the Wardens weren't so negatively viewed at the moment.

As he further inspected it he noticed some writing etched on a metal plate on the base of the statue. "The Hero of Ferelden - Letholin Mahariel fought to push back the blight and save all of Thedas His hard work and sacrifice will never be forgotten." He read out loud as his fingers traced the words. He smiled at the thought that he was being appreciated in such a creative way. Many times were parties, books, and children were all commemorated in his name, but only a few times did he ever come across any statues.

'I'm surprised that they didn't vandalize it.' He thought before taking a step back.

Looking over he noticed a statue of the Champion of Kirkwall. For a moment he was curious as to why Hawke had a statue in Lothering, but suddenly he remembered her being a former resident of the town. But she was more noted for being the Champion, not a citizen of Lothering.

Eventually Letholin got tired of staring at the statues. Granted they were nice to look at he began to feel the rain seeping through his cloak and he felt the distinct need to have a drink. With one final smile he passed the statues and resumed to walk to the tavern.

A little while later Letholin eventually crossed a second bridge that led to the last portion of the town. Instantly he was greeted with the familiar sight of the entrance of the very tavern that he met Leliana. At the other end of the bridge he paused and stared at it for a moment. He felt like that he went back in time. He could even hear Alistair's voice from behind him.

_"So Morrigan, let's talk about your mother..."_ He smiled warmly at the memory.

Out of all things to look the same it was the tavern. He found some kind of irony in that.

As he went through the front door he relived yet another moment. All eyes were on him, except the bartenders. For a moment he felt the distinct feeling that some of Loghian's men were going to jump him, but instead the sounds of someone whistling assaulted him.

Letholin looked over to his right to see the familiar guard that saved him from earlier. Quickly he walked over to the table that the man was sitting at. Once he sat down the tavern went back to normal. The gossip was whispering off in the corner, the drunks were passed out at their tables, and everyone else seemingly oh forgot about him as they continued whatever conversations they were holding before he walked in.

"You're late." The man said once Letholin sat down and set his pack down at his side.

"You're early." Letholin replied with a small grin.

"Therefor that makes you late."

The man waved over a waitress and she came instantly. He was obviously an important man, there was no way a normal guard would be able to save down a waitress that quickly.

"What can I get for you two?" The woman asked. Letholin looked up to notice the waitress had red hair, his heart stung for a moment. However he quickly gave an answer. "Something cheap, I don't care what."

But the man had other plans. "Sod that, get us a bottle of the Western Hill Brandy, put it on my tab." The man said warmly before handing her a small coin pouch. The waitress nodded, curtsied, and walked to the back in order to get him their drinks.

Letholin looked over to the man questioningly. "Western Hill? That's pricey, especially for a guard."

"Guard captain." The man corrected.

Letholin nodded. "Guard captain, my apologies." He said before giving him a small how in his chair.

Letholin had a load of questions to ask, however most of them were not exactly the best ice breakers. So instead of sounding rude he started off simple. "You know I never got your name Guard Captain...?"

"Deacon." The man said plainly.

"First name or last?" Letholin asked.

"I'll let you figure that one out." Deacon said with a large smile on his face.

Suddenly the waitress came back with a tray in hand that had a bottle and two cups. "Here you go boys are, don't forget to savor it." She said cheerily before placing the bottle in the middle of the table and the cups on each end.

For a moment the two just sat there in silence. It wasn't until the waitress walked away that Deacon even reached over to grab the bottle and fill up their cups. Once Letholin's cup was filled with the amber liquid he nodded as his form of thanks. As he picked up the cup he took a moment to smell it. He didn't much have a nose for brandy but he could certainly notice the quality of it. He began to understand why it was so expensive when he bought it for Oghren all those years ago.

"What brings you to New Lothering?" Deacon asked after taking a sip from his cup.

Letholin took a sip of his own before answering. "Multiple reasons."

"Like...?"

Letholin opened his mouth to say something like "none of your business." But he realized that would not be the smartest idea. "I'm going...to see a friend."

Deacon looked at him with a small grin. "A friend huh?" He asked. It was obvious that he had a decent idea on what he meant.

"So why did you save me back there?" Letholin asked before taking another sip from his cup.

"What do you mean?"

"With the guards...? They surely would have arrested me because of who I am."

Deacon shrugged. "I'm not so sure myself." He said honestly.

Quickly Deacon downed the cup of Brandy before continuing. "Maybe it's because I remember who you were and what you stood for before the Wardens screwed that up." He poured himself another drink. "Maybe it's because I owe you for warning the town about the incoming Blight all those years ago." He downed half of the cup before speaking once again.

"Maybe-Maybe it's because I owe you for saving me and my family's lives."

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><p>Sort of an abrupt cut off, but I don't want to put too much in one chapter. :P<p> 


	4. Chapter 4: The Climb

It was midnight and Letholin and Deacon were both still inside the tavern. Other than the remaining bartender and the two town drunks in the corner who were passed out, they were the only others left. For the most part they talked about rather cheerful topics, that was mostly because of the drinking.

"Y'know I'd always thought that you would be...shorter." Deacon said after he finished his third bottle.

Letholin (who was still on his second cup) laughed heartily along with the guard captain after taking a drink. "Taller you say?" He finally asked after the two calmed down.

Deacon nodded instantly. "They always said that the Hero of Ferelden was rather tall for an elf, they even say that you're just as tall as humans. I never believed that...but when I walked up to you at the gate I nearly fell over realizing how wrong I was!" Deacon laughed again but this time Letholin only chuckled.

The guard captain was practically under the table, multiple times he looked over to the bartender giving him a worried look, but the man at the counter would always just shake his head and motion him to turn his attention back to Deacon.

Through most of their conversation Letholin held back one question, the reason why he even agreed to diverting off course and spending some time with the man in the first place. It was killing him to know what was going on with the Wardens, and from what Deacon said about it back at the gate he made it sound like things were bad for them. All he had to go on was his word, otherwise he was completely out of the loop.

During his hiding Letholin cut next to all ties from the world, not even Leliana recieved a letter from him for the eight months he disappeared. Once he returned to society he was at Alistair's front door, and he was just about out of the loop as he was!

After some time Deacon finally seemed somewhat composed after his fit of laughter, it was then that Letholin finally had to ask it: "So what has caused the Wardens to have such a bad reputation as of late?" He asked calmly before taking a sip of his drink.

Right before the drink Deacon's face was filled with drunken bliss, but after hearing Letholin's question his gaze looked upward to the elf and his face hardened immediately - it was like he wasn't even drunk at all. "In short? Warden Commander Clarel is the reason." Instantly he sat up and stretched for a moment, it was obvious that he was trying to shake it off a bit before he spoke about serious matters. Eventually he stopped and leaned forward a bit to continue speaking.

"I s'pose that you haven't heard a word of this, right?"

"The last thing I heard about Clarel was that she was sending troops to Highever to aid the few Wardens in Ferelden, that was a year ago." Letholin was beginning to worry about the news he was about to hear. Clarel was good person, the two frequently wrote to each other and out of all of the Commanders he found himself closest to her. The few times they spoke in person convinced him that they were even friends.

"Shit, you've heard nothing about the Wardens since then?" Deacon's words were beginning to slur a bit, it was obvious that the drink was getting back to him again. Letholin needed to hurry this up.

"Nothing, I have been completely out of the loop." Letholin said calmly before pulling the half empty bottle away from Deacon's reach.

Deacon nodded. "Clarel was trying to stop future Blights from happening. Sounds like a good idea right? Wrong." Deacon slammed his fist against the table causing the cups and bottles on the table to shake a bit. Letholin was caught off guard with Deacon's sudden rage, he was curious as to what was causing it, but he didn't want to ask what.

"She made her mage Wardens summon a demon army so she could have them end the Blight somehow. She ordered them to do it!" His voice steadily rose as he explained the situation. "My son! My son...he was forced to…" But by the time he started to say it, he stopped. "I need to go home." He concluded before getting up. Slowly he got to his feet and began to walk towards the exit of the tavern. Letholin looked over to the Bartender who was now significantly worried, so much that the dwarf began to jog over towards Deacon. "Catch him!" He ordered.

Without hesitation Letholin got up and side stepped to catch the suddenly falling guard captain. With a grunt Letholin was able to get in between him and the floor. Even though he was known for his surprising amount of strength Letholin still had a hard time keeping the guy standing, it was almost like he wanted to fall. Luckily the bartender came in time to straighten the man out.

"Does he do this often?" Letholin asked as he slung one of Deacon's arms behind his neck.

The bartender nodded. "At least twice a week."

Letholin sighed. "His son went to Orlais to become a Warden didn't he?" He asked.

"He was one of the many Wardens who died to the Inquisition during the battle at Adamant."

Letholin shook his head. He couldn't help but feel like it was his fault somehow. "Where does he live?" He asked.

"Across the street, I'll take you there."

* * *

><p>It only took a few minutes to get to Deacon's house. It was Letholin's turn to practically drag the man this time, but instead of past a city gate it was to his house. Which was hard especially since he was still in his guard captain armor and it felt like it weighed a ton.<p>

However after a very strenuous few minutes Letholin made it to the front door of his house. He could still see light coming from the windows of the house, his family must have still been awake. With his free arm Letholin knocked on the door and waited for an answer. He was greeted by a woman who seemed to be in her early forties. The woman gasped realizing Deacon was practically out cold. "I'm afraid that I might have been the cause of this." Letholin said guiltily.

The shook her head before holding out her arms. "It isn't your fault, work has been tough on him recently, at least you brought him home." Letholin transferred Deacon over to the woman before nodding slightly. "It wouldn't have been right if I leaved him there." He said with a small smile.

The woman nodded before she guided Deacon farhter into the house. Once the man was out of sight she returned to the front door. "Thank you Dane and Mr….?" She looked over to Letholin expecting a name of some sort.

If it weren't for the hood covering most of his face and the cloak concealing his armor Letholin would have had to give up his true name, and he realized that. But luckily he was covered up enough to feel safe enough to lie. "Enteri." He answered making up the name on the fly.

The woman nodded. "Well thank you Mr. Enteri for ensuring that my husband returned safe and sound." The woman then closed the door behind her as she went to go further into the house.

For a few moments Letholin and the bartender stood outside of the house in silence. It wasn't until the bartender handed him his pack that the two even said anything.

"I suppose that I should get going." Letholin said before looking over to the road that would lead out towards his destination.

With a small nod for his thanks Letholin began to walk, but he was stopped at the sound of a voice behind him, the bartenders.

"You know he doesn't blame you, right?"

Letholin turned around confused. "What?"

"For his son." He answered. "He doesn't blame you for his death. It was because of you that his son was given another ten years, even if it was you who influenced his son to join your cause he still knows that he wouldn't have even been given the option if it weren't for you."

Letholin sighed before nodding, he didn't know what to say. He still had a distinct feeling that it was his fault somehow. "Thanks for the drinks." He finally said before he began to walk down the road again.

* * *

><p>For the next few days Letholin went from town to town without saying so much as a word to anyone. Even though Deacon made it significantly easier to get out of Lothering without having to explain himself to some guards he still regretted the idea of even talking to the man. He felt like his question about the state of the Wardens pushed the man over an edge that he didn't even knew existed until it was too late. He doubted that he would do something similar in the next town, but he didn't want to risk it. He simply just kept his hood up and his cloak perfectly covering his blue and white armor as he went from town to town.<p>

Eventually Letholin paused seeing the very trail that would lead to Skyhold. The terrain was already snowy given it being winter, but the sight of the mountains ahead of him sapped nearly all of the motivation out of him. 'Why did they have to pick a castle in the middle of the damn Frostbacks?' He thought as he stood at beginning of the trail.

For a few minutes he simply stood there, luckily for him it was a rather seemingly empty path which meant that not all that many people were traveling. Otherwise knowing his luck somebody would have most likely tried to rob him by then.

Finally Letholin took a deep breath remembering the reason why he was there in the first place.

"Alright then..." He muttered before taking his first step up the trail.


End file.
